


In My Veins

by TheMikeWheelers (jasongracefully)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasongracefully/pseuds/TheMikeWheelers
Summary: "She was inside his veins, pumping all throughout his body. He could feel her in his pulse, with all her colors. You really had to know someone well to be able to see their colors within, and Mike had already seen so many of hers, he wanted more. She had already begun to paint with her colors in his soul, making her own mural. His vision was a kaleidoscope, filled with all the colors and light shining through all because of her. Mike wanted to see so many more of Eleven’s colors."





	In My Veins

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song In My Veins by Andrew Belle, if you'd like I do think it's a great song to listen to as you read this fic.

She had an overwhelming sense of blueness follow her around. It's like the color was an aura surrounding Eleven, it was her own special color. Mike saw the way it haunted her. The sadness in her past, in her present, in her everything, it all haunted her. 

In silence, he saw the blue. In her fear-stricken expressions, he saw the blue. In the shallow one-word sentences she delivered that didn't say a lot, but revealed so much, all he saw was the blue she would never escape. The blue would follow her around forever, chasing after her and calling her to relive the pain.

But then there was the yellow. The yellow was so much rarer, but when it was there, it stuck out in a way Mike could never forget. It was the few smiles she delivered, making his heart pump faster and faster. The yellow was stitched into the blonde of the wig, but in reality, the happiness, the confidence, the normalcy she felt wearing that wig was what made her yellow, not the wig itself.

The yellow first appeared on the La-Z Boy. Her laugh, musical and short, like she couldn't truly feel it without the guilt and undertones of blue, but still, the laughter was there nonetheless. Eleven radiated sunlight and love and happiness and it was like you couldn't ever see her as being anything other than yellow when she laughed. Mike only ever wanted to see her as yellow, but he knew she was far past the point of ever being able to have yellow in her soul.

Green was hard to see. It was practically impossible to notice unless you looked for it, but it was there, ever so slightly. In her eyes, in between flashes of all the other colors, you could see green, just barely. It was the color of frustration, of envy, of being an outsider. The way El’s mind seemed to yell, “Why me?” Why did everything happen to her, why couldn't she just be normal like everyone else? She tried to shove the green away, to stuff it so far down no one could see. Wishing wouldn't change anything, after all. But it was still there, deep down.

But the green had another form. This was a calmer green, a more natural one. It was the way she grew, making her feel like one of the massive trees rising way above her in the woods. She never saw anything as tall as those trees before, but they didn't scare her. She wanted to be just like that. They seemed to scream down from the heavens words of strength, that they were there to stay and grow. Eleven wanted to be like that. The green was in healing, when she opened up to others, when she found the courage inside herself to talk. Green wasn't all so bad. 

Orange was a new color, but it presented itself so boldly it was impossible to ignore. She had never seen orange in other people, she never had the chance to be orange herself. But then she was out there in the world, and Mike, a very orange person himself, practically shoved the color into her. Orange was warmth, it was comfort, it was safety. This was El’s first time seeing it, but she radiated it herself.

Mike saw so much orange in her, even if she didn't see much of it herself. He saw it in her dedication to protect her friends, in her determination to help. Even when she just saw a monster in herself, all she cared about was the good. Mike sometimes thought to himself that he saw her orange a lot of more vividly than his friends, and that's why he was so drawn to her, but he couldn't help himself. Those quiet moments just the two of them, she made him feel even more orange inside. When it was just the two of them talking in his basement, when they hung back behind Lucas and Dustin to be on their own, when Mike had kissed her-- all these moments made Mike’s heart beat faster, but he couldn't ignore the overwhelming comfort and safety of orange that came with it.

Purple was imagination, creativity-- purple was dreams. Eleven wasn't the biggest dreamer, she never had much of a chance in her life to dream of great things, but that soft lavender was still there. Purple was what she felt she should be ashamed of, it's what she was taught to ignore and push away and focus on what was really happening. Her Papa didn't have a drop of purple inside him. But still, it grew like a flower inside her heart that she couldn't control, it was a longing deep inside her that kept her awake at night for 12 years, imagining and dreaming that somewhere out there in the world, there was so much more than this.

The purple was that hopeful part of her that had dreams for the future. Maybe her dreams weren't big by other people’s standards, but they were everything to her. They were hope, motivation, a reason to fight. She found purple in promises, in believing that there was something for her in the future. She could have her own bed, she could have as many Eggos as she wants, she could go to the Snow Ball with Mike. Mike didn't ever want to break one of his promises, because he didn't ever want to see her have to dim that purple part of herself again.

Eleven had all these colors inside her, all these colors that Mike had admired so much. But there was one color that stood out from the rest.

She was red. Everything about her was red. Her passion, her fury, her determination, it was the red inside her.

Red was the color of the fire igniting inside her. It was the color of her heart, which sometimes she had to feel her wrist to assure herself it was still beating, but it was strong of course, so much stronger than she knew. Red was the color that coursed through her veins.

It was also the color she left Mike with. 

The red that coursed through her veins she left to him. She was pumping inside him, his blood filled deep with her. She was inside his own heart, beating it and making it strong. She had created her own fiery red flame inside him, which she tended to as she watched it burn.

Mike was aware of the red she left inside him, and in some ways it was comforting, he could feel her inside him all the time. But her passion also had a darker side, that she had left with Mike as well.

The anger, the hatred, the fear she harbored towards the lab. She didn't want to feel such bad things, she wanted to forget it, but how could she forget her entire life? Mike didn't feel the same guilt with his anger. He hated everything those people did to her and he hated it passionately. Until the day he died, reminders of the lab would make his blood run thin. That was a part of the red El had left him with. She didn't mean to give him any of her red, but that's what happens when you get close to someone. Your colors jump around and mix together and paint their own picture inside. Eleven was red, and knowing her, loving her, made Mike more and more red by the day.

She was inside his veins, pumping all throughout his body. He could feel her in his pulse, with all her colors. You really had to know someone well to be able to see their colors within, and Mike had already seen so many of hers, he wanted more. She had already begun to paint with her colors in his soul, making her own mural. His vision was a kaleidoscope, filled with all the colors and light shining through all because of her. Mike wanted to see so many more of Eleven’s colors.

But there were no colors left.

Maybe he should have seen it coming, but there’s no amount of preparation that can truly make you see that you're about to lose someone. Seeing colors is an addiction. What if you woke up one morning and everything was in black and white? Even if someone told you years, days, minutes in advance, it would still be shocking. That's what love is like. Love is colorful, it's like seeing a new color all on its own. Losing love is like losing all the colors in the world.

Black was death. Black was what happened when you kept mixing more and more colors, and as they got darker, soon they were void of color themselves. They were just dark and colorless. Black was the color of death.

All Mike wanted was to see more of Eleven’s colors. But then she was gone, love was gone, and all the colors were gone.

Without her, everything was a devoid, deathly black.


End file.
